If I Die Before I Wake
by draigonfire
Summary: COMPLETED* “Till death do us part.” 20-year-old Ginny Weasley is a true believer of all things love: soul mates, love at first sight, destiny. To Ginny, life has paved a road for love—too bad death isn’t willing to move out of the way. D/G


A/N* Mehehe another one shot…but this one is a bit different from the other one, not quite as fluffy. And in case you can't tell, this story moves between past and present, the past being in italics (which I finally figured out how to upload with much thanks to Vicky).

If I Die Before I Wake

          Everything was red.

          Distinctly, Ginny Weasley could still hear Lucius shouting above the din.  She could still see scarlet eyes, those terrifying red eyes the color of fresh blood staining her mind.  And everything was so loud, it pained her throbbing head, yet at the same time she couldn't comprehend what exactly was causing all the commotion.  It seemed suddenly impossible to speak, to open her eyes, as she lacked all energy but to concentrate on the excruciating pain that prickled through her body like violent tides upon the sand.

          She wanted everything to just go away—the ugly face of Voldemort, the waves of intense nausea, and those horrid, shrill noises.  Ron had always been loud, but in the twenty long years she'd been his sister, his commanding voice was something she was quite accustomed to.  In fact, lying cold and out of breath she would've done anything to hear his voice, to hear him say just one more time how much he loved Hermione, or even how Malfoy was a git.

          Oh, Malfoy.  It wasn't supposed to be like this.

          _"Well look, if it isn't Virginia Weasley."_

_          Draco Malfoy.  If she hadn't been so busy crying, Ginny would have flinched at the sight of the impeccably dressed seventh-year.  She'd rather enjoyed the past twenty minutes of tranquil silence by the lake, free to sob to the placid water and wallow in her own misery.  It wasn't like Hermione or Ron would have noticed anyways, they were probably too busy consoling Harry inside the castle.  It was always about Harry, even with her own brother.  Harry Potter, with his plentiful powers and noble intentions and that stupid scar that made him so damn famous._

_          "Go away," she mustered between hiccups, glancing at the pair of expensive shoes which belonged to the person standing next to her, unable to meet his no doubt mocking gaze._

_          "What is this, the four-hundredth time you've cried over bloody Potter?" Draco sneered._

_          "I'm not crying over him," she protested darkly.  "He's not worth my tears."_

_          "Then why, weasel?" He lost a bit of that condescending tone._

_          "Are you deaf, Malfoy?" Ginny shot back.  "Did I not just tell you to go away?"_

_          She couldn't exactly see him, but out of the corner of her eye she saw his regal black robes move as he shrugged.  "I didn't think you meant it," he replied casually.  "No girl in her right mind does."_

_          She looked at him now, almost smiling at the winking sparkle in his gray eyes.  They seemed, for once, not the expressionless mercury she'd always seen but more alive, glittering with depth and something that vaguely resembled concern.  "Why do you care?" She sniffled._

_          Draco untied his robes and cast them onto the ground, stretching out his long legs as he lowered himself down next to her.  Taking in his clean black sweater and pressed gray trousers, she felt incredibly dingy, suddenly, with grass tangled in her skirts and tears streaking down her face.  He picked up a pebble from beside her and tossed it into the lake expertly, the moonlight glinting off his smooth silver hair.  "Why do you care?" She repeated._

_          He glanced at her wordlessly and then turned his intense gaze back to the water, watching the ripples with languid ease.  "I don't," he finally said.  "You're daft _

_if you think I do."_

_          They were harsh words, but spoken gently.  "Then why are you here?" She asked in a quiet voice.  He was so handsome, the perfect addition to the serene silence of the cool autumn night.  She'd admired his features before, of course, and he seemed to grow more stunning by the day._

_          "I'm asking myself the same," he said with a crooked smile, and she nearly melted. "You made a scene back in there, you know."_

_          She winced.  "I know."_

_          He leaned back on his elbows and studied her from under long, blond lashes.  "Most people would be happy if their childhood crush asked them out."  There was a hint of question.  "Most people would say yes rather than fling food in their face."_

_          "Harry only asked me to the Yule Ball because he's gone out with pretty much every other girl in Hogwarts already," Ginny said blankly._

_          "Maybe he fancies you," Draco suggested in that same mocking voice.  "Maybe he finds you incredibly beautiful and wants to stare at you for hours on end."_

_          "Right," she snorted.  "I know I'm not beautiful, Malfoy.  I'm not Parvati Patil, and I'm certainly not Cho Chang.  I spent so long wishing he would notice me, you know, and when he finally did I realized that I liked him for all the wrong reasons.  Because he was Harry Potter, he was _the_ Harry Potter.  And he just assumed that poor Ginny Weasley would always be a back up for him, always be there just in case he couldn't find a date."_

_           There was no response from Draco, his face devoid of emotion as he stared out at the lake, and they sat still like that for a few minutes, Ginny shivering slightly from the cold.  "I should be heading in," Draco said eventually, standing up and offering her his hand._

_          "I think I want to stay here for a while," she responded, flashing him a gracious smile._

_          For a split second, he hesitated.  "Take my cloak, then," he gestured to the rich cloth lying on the grass.  "It's dirtied now, I've no use for it."_

_          "Thanks," she said wryly, though in truth his offering touched her more than he'd ever realize._

_          "Yeah," he said, striding towards the castle.  "Hey, Weasley?," he called back from just below the willow tree._

_          She turned around.  "Yes?"_

_          "Beauty is in the eye of the beholder," Draco smirked, only it was a different smirk, one that caused her toes to tingle.  She sat smiling dumbly as he turned and sauntered away, snug in the embrace of his thick cloak and smelling like Draco Malfoy, like cinnamon and almonds with a bit of sunflower._

          Ginny stirred a little, still imperceptibly uncomfortable, though Tom Riddle's awful image was fading now.  And so was the light—it was growing progressively darker, and she tried to call out, her brains screaming millions of different things yet not one leaping from her parched throat.  She wondered why nobody had noticed her distress yet.  It's getting cold, she thought dimly, I feel so cold and wet.  And the air around her reeked, the sharp scent of pungent iron that reckoned so much like blood.  She needed Draco.  He'd been icy on the exterior but his hands had always been marvelously warm, and his lips—they set her on fire, really.

          _"Weasley," He looked more surprised than annoyed to see her at his door.  Evidently she'd waken him up, as he was standing rather groggily in his black silk pajama pants, taking advantage of his Head Boy's privileges and dozing on a Saturday morning._

_          "Uh, did I wake you up?" Ginny said shyly._

_Draco glanced around in befuddlement, running a hand through his short blond hair before flickering those amazing eyes back to her.  She was watching him with an earnest smile, her cheeks rosy and amber eyes bright like the morning dew. "In a sense," he said.  She wasn't sure how to reply to that, so she just stood and waited for him to make another remark.  "Am I supposed to invite you in or something?"_

_"Um, er, uh," she stammered._

_"I take that as a yes," he smirked, and opened the door for her to slip inside.  "So what do you want?"_

_She held out his cloak.  "I came to return this," she flushed._

_He took it from her gingerly.  "Did you clean it?"_

_"You—" Her mouth dropped open in indignation._

_"Kidding, Weasley, kidding," Draco rolled his eyes, strolling over to his hamper and dumping the robe in lazily._

_          "Oh.  Well, it was really nice of you to lend me your cloak, yesterday," she said for lack of anything better._

_          He waved a hand.  "Any gentleman would have," he dismissed._

_          "You don't have to be so cool all the time, Draco," she said suddenly, irked that he couldn't even welcome her gratitude properly._

_          Draco narrowed his eyes.  "What did you say?"_

_          She blinked.  "I said you didn't have to be so—"_

_          "No, what did you call me?" He scrutinized her carefully, and she felt a red hot flush seeping up her neck as she realized her mistake._

_          "Well," she replied defensively, "I think I'd rather be called dragon than bad faith, don't you?  Look, if it bothers you I'll just go back to Malfoy and you'll never hear your name from these lips again."_

_          "You don't have to," he said, his smirk faltering.  "My name does sound rather nice coming from someone as innocent as you."_

_          "Okay," was all she could say, trying hard to decipher whether his last comment had been an insult or not._

_          He flopped down onto his four-poster bed and observed her amusedly.  "Is that all?" He said grandly._

_          "What?" Ginny tore her gaze from admiring the lavishness of his room and met his stare, startled._

_          "Can I be of any other service to you?" He spread out his arms with another devilish smile, "Or will you be fine for today?"_

_          "Actually," She cleared her throat nervously, "I, uh, wanted to ask you something.  I know it's kind of unorthodox, and you probably—"_

_          "Spit it out," Draco cut her off, and she toyed with her fingers.  "Because though you may have time to waste, I _am_ Head Boy and I have duties to attend to by the—"_

_          "Iwantedtoknowifyou'dgototheyuleballwithme," she blurted out._

_          His eyes widened, and even the calm, collected Malfoy in him couldn't hide his shock.  "Say what?"_

_          "Don't make me say it again," she snapped, and then regretted it._

_          He cocked his head.  "Couldn't find a date, could you, Weasley?  And I guess you didn't want to show up alone after blowing up at Potter.  Now you're resorting to your most loathed enemies."_

_          "It's not that," she defended quickly.  "I'm asking you because. . ." she trailed off, and Draco raised an eyebrow.  "Because I want to," she finished.  The eyebrow grew higher, if that was possible.  As if to prove her point, Ginny's legs carried her over to where he was sitting and she grasped his head in between her hands, the smooth skin cool to her touch.  In one movement, she bent down and pressed her lips to his, gently, sweetly, lightly._

_          To her pleasant surprise, he encircled her waist and pulled her down into his lap, parting her lips with his tongue and darting into her moist mouth before she could register what had happened.  It was over much too soon, and he leaned back, eyeing her with a mixture of interest and admiration.  "Gutsy," he remarked with something she couldn't quite distinguish as a smirk or a smile.  "First kiss?"_

_          She blushed and nodded quickly, scrambling off his lap and scurrying for the door.  "Sorry to have bothered you," she muttered incoherently._

_          "If you want my tie to match," Draco called after her, "Then tell me the color of your dress by next week."_

_          As she ran down the Slytherin corridors, Ginny couldn't stop smiling._

          The noises were quieter now, she noticed with a bit of relief. "Where's Ginny?" She heard Hermione call out, and faintly, she smiled.  Someone did remember her then.  But as her thoughts became increasingly blurry, she focused on thinking about the one thing that had always brought a smile to her face in the past.

          _"You look. . ." Ginny wasn't sure if there was a correct phrase to describe Draco at that moment.  Handsome and breathtaking seemed fitting enough, but neither could measure to the stunned expression on her face as she took in his grand robes and smiling—actually smiling—face._

_          "If it was typical of me," he returned, "I'd say the same about you."  He offered her his arm and she tucked her elbow through his, bouncing up on the tip of her feet to sweep a chaste kiss before entrance.  "Ready, Weasley?"_

_          She frowned.  "Can't you call me Ginny?"_

_          "Ginny," he repeated, and then his face creased into a smirk.  "Not bad."_

_          "Malfoy!" Ron's voice rang out loud and clear, and all those around them fell silent.  "What the hell are you doing with my sister?"_

_          Draco seemed incredibly amused at the redhead's bristling anger.  "Actually, Weasley," he said calmly, "I think you should be asking her that."_

_          Ron turned to Ginny, chocolate eyes flickering with surprise.  From behind him, Harry, Hermione, and the sixth-year that was Harry's date appeared, and Ginny glanced nervously at Draco.  "Uh, he's my date, Ron," she explained lamely._

_          "Date?" Ron echoed, horrified.  "As in he asked you?"_

_          "As in she asked me," Draco supplied._

_          "What the hell possessed you to bloody ask him?" Ron raged._

_          "You picked _Malfoy_ over me?" Harry demanded incredulously._

_          "Do you even know him?" Hermione asked.  All around them, people were muttering and whispering, and while Draco stood rather placidly, taking in the questions and watching with interested eyes, Ginny wanted to shrink back into her Gryffindor room and never come out again._

_          "Stop!" She shouted.  To her relief, they did.  The problem was, however, that she wasn't sure where to go from here.  Spontaneously, she grabbed Draco, and crushed her mouth to his, as if simply doing so would cause all the problems to go away.  Naturally, it was a short kiss being public and all, but nevertheless just as sweet as the first few.  "I asked because even though he's an insufferable git most of the time, I think he could be human if he tried," she whispered, more to him than Ron, and he brought his lips down again, curving them into a content smile._

_          And then Ron lunged forward, fists flying, and Ginny was knocked aside in dazed shock as she watched him struggle with Draco.  "Draco!" She cried.  _

_          Both men halted their physical squabble immediately, Ron eyeing her with shocked dismay and Draco with astonishment.  "You'd pick Malfoy's side before mine," he said dumbly._

_          She rushed over to Draco, helping him up with gentle arms.  "Are you all right?" She asked softly._

_          He traced the line of her jaw with his index finger.  "No."_

_          "I—"_

_          He cut her off with a searing kiss.  "But I will be."_

"Ginny!"

          Two warm hands were grasping her shoulders gently, and Ginny couldn't quite see who they belonged to.  Everything was in shades of gray and black now, and she couldn't have opened her eyes even if she'd tried.  Draco, she wanted to call out, wishing to hell she could wrap her arms around him and pull him close.  Why can't anyone hear me? She panicked, trying to scream or shout, or something just so he could know that she loved him.

          "You're so selfish, Gin," She heard him say, his voice thick with tears.  That's odd, a little voice went off in her head, Draco never cries.  "How could you do this to me?  How could you?  I didn't even have a chance to apologize to you.  You promised me, Gin, you promised we would be together, you can't go off and do this."

          Her heart ached for him, for the way his voice broke though she couldn't quite understand why.  She longed to hold him and tell him that everything was fine, to relish together in the joy she'd felt earlier that morning when the muggle doctor had returned her pregnancy test.  And though she was scared without her sense of touch and without her sight or voice, the greater part of her was broken in hearing him so forlorn, and she vowed to severely maim whoever had done this to her beloved Draco.

          "Oh Gin," he went on, burying his head in the crook of her neck.  The sense of alarm arose even more, as she could distantly feel _something_ there, but the keen tingle he usually evoked within her lost.  "Oh Gin, I love you so much.  I can't live like this, Ginny, you don't understand.  I never said those words, straight out, and I'm sorry, but I love you, always have and always will."

          _"I love you, Draco," she whispered, meaning it with every fiber in her body.  _

_          He nuzzled her neck.  "Mmm, you smell delicious, Gin."_

_          She frowned a bit at his reaction, half relieved he hadn't jumped out of the bed and half disappointed he wasn't elated at her revelation.  His lips traveled to her jaw line, and she nearly forgot her train of thought.  "Draco?"_

_          "Yes?" Another feathery kiss swept against her lips._

_          "Did you hear what I said?" She pulled back now, searching those cool gray eyes for any sign of recognition._

_          He grinned cheekily, obviously more distracted by the sight of her wrapped in his green satin sheets than he let on, and enfolded her in his lean arms once more.  "I hear everything you say," he murmured._

_          "Draco," she struggled futilely with herself, with her own desires.  "This is your last year, you're going to be gone next year."_

_          He did stop this time, sinking back into the downy pillows and propping himself up with one elbow.  "Is that what you're so tense about, Gin?"_

_          She reached for him, snuggling her body against his and resting her head upon his bare chest comfortably.  "I don't want to lose you, Draco," she whispered against the rhythmic movements of his ribcage.  "I-I meant what I said.  I love you."_

_          The masses of red hair were directly under his nose, and as he kissed her head his nose inhaled the scent of her grapefruit shampoo.  "I know," he said simply, tightening his embrace and reveling in the feel of her as she fell asleep, as she always did after they made love._

_          And in that moment, their odd little relationship, one so consumed with passion, developed from something so primitive and adolescent to something much deeper and more sacred: love in its purest form._

          "Please don't do this," Draco continued to plead.

          Stop, Ginny tried saying.  You don't understand, everything is going to be fine, you see?  I'm pregnant with your child, and we're going to be a family, Draco, a family.  It doesn't matter that we were fighting, everything will be normal again.  But he just went on mumbling and crying, and as a warm tear fell against her face she felt the white begin to fade.  Never once had she seen Draco crumble before, or lose that cool, collected face of his and now that he had, she was frightened, and terrified she couldn't see why.

          "Gin, this is all my fault.  If only I could go back in time, I'd do so many things differently," he whispered.

          _"Draco, where do we go from here?"_

_          He blinked at her.  "What?"_

_          "Voldemort's war is on the rise," Ginny reminded.  "You and me, do we just keep being together but not together?"_

_          He stiffened.  "I think we're doing fine."_

_          "Draco," she said tenderly, reaching up to caress his face.  "Haven't you ever thought about, you know, starting a family and marriage and things like that?"_

_          "No," he replied with a strange abruptness, leaning into her caress and falling silent._

_          Ginny stretched out next to him, brought her face to just below his chin and applied small, feathery kisses. "I think we should get married."_

_          He snapped away.  "What?"_

_ "I thought it would be a good idea," Ginny said nervously, biting her lower lip.  "I-I want to spend the rest of my life with you, Draco.  You don't have to act like I asked you to jump off a cliff."_

_Draco shook his head.  "You don't get it, Gin, it's not a good idea.  How am I supposed to tell people that we're engaged?"_

_          "Is that it?" She cried.  "You're ashamed of me, aren't you?  Because I don't have money.  I don't have the Malfoy name."_

_          "Stop this," he demanded._

_          She was sobbing now.  "I love you, Draco, I love you so much, but you can't even take me home and show me to your family. . .I just don't understand you."_

_          "You want me to tell Lucius Malfoy that his son is dating a Weasley?" Draco spat.  "The same Weasley he tried so hard to use and destroy back in my second year?  Think about it, Ginny, or you're even stupider than I thought."  He wanted to take back the words the minute he said them, but then it was too late._

_          She gazed at him with tear-filled eyes, distraught and torn between shouting back or running away.  She chose the latter._

_          He didn't go after her._

          "I should have married you," Draco said hoarsely.  "We wouldn't be here, you wouldn't be here then.  I should have told you I could never be ashamed of you, oh Gin, I love you, I really do."

          "I cannot believe you would betray your family for a Weasley, Draco," Lucius' angry voice cut into her thoughts.  

          "Leave them alone, you miserable old fool," Hermione shot in.  "Can't you give them a moment of peace even in death?  Or do you really want to be dragged to Azkaban sooner?"

          Death? Ginny thought, confused.  And then it came back to her.

          _"So this is it?" Lucius snarled.  "You're fighting for the other side."_

_          Draco flinched, but was unfazed.  "Yes, Father, but there isn't much to fight anymore.  Give it up, you've lost."_

_          "Don't you dare call me Father," Lucius roared._

_The field was empty of life, littered with bodies but for a few still standing.  From her spot in the tree, Ginny could  recognize Hermione, and Ron, and Percy, standing squarely as Lucius Malfoy and a cloaked figure stared at Draco.  She scrambled off her perch and moved a bit closer to the grass, knowing well that her father had warned her to stay away in the last moments of war._

_It was a terrible place to reconcile with him now, but after five months without him she couldn't wait any longer, and it didn't seem to matter whether they hadn't spoken or whether their last confrontation had ended disastrously.  All Ginny knew was that she needed him, and now with nearly all of the death eaters defeated she wanted to at least see him before her heart burst with longing._

_"You think you've won, don't you?" Lucius spat contemptuously,  "You and your miserable muggle-loving bunch.  But this is Voldemort's war, and the only person who can end it is he."_

_          "How?" Draco sneered.  "We have your wands."_

_          "It's a pity," said the man beside Lucius, "That we should resort to muggle contraptions in moments like these."_

_          And though the cloaked man never removed his garments, Ginny could see his piercing red eyes from yards away.  It was as if everything happened in slow motion, as Voldemort himself raised the compact revolver, as Ron leapt to protect Hermione, and as the rest realized too late that his arm was aimed towards Draco.  Without another moment's thought, she quickened her pace, sprinting faster than she'd ever during those quidditch practices with her eye focused on a single blond head in the clearing._

_          "Draco!" She shouted as she closed the last few feet and flung herself upon him.  As they toppled she saw his eyes, those beautiful gray eyes, light up in alarm, and then the ugly face of the man who had haunted her back during her first year.  There was a tremendous sound that echoed terribly under the darkening sky, and she suddenly felt as if she'd been split in two, as if someone had wrenched their hand into her stomach and pulled fiercely.  "I love you," she choked out, something wet and warm trickling out of her mouth that she disgustedly realized was blood.  She gasped for breath, writhing from the pain and lack of air until everything became shades of crimson and she wasn't sure what exactly was happening anymore._

          "Give me the gun, damnit," Draco growled.

          "Two wrongs don't make a right," Hermione cried out.  

          "Fuck you."

          "Don't do this!  Think of Ginny, Malfoy," Hermione begged.

          "I _am thinking of Ginny," he snarled back._

          The noise was even louder this time, paining her and causing her head to ring.  Her world became an inky black then, and she faded into oblivion.  And then, suddenly, an enormous, heavy weight landed across her, jolting her and spinning her as the black gave way to white.

          Where am I? She thought faintly, glancing at her surroundings.  She was in a standing position, but she felt so light, so free, as if she was floating in air.  Everything around her was sunny, but not quite unbearable, and it was tranquil, devoid of noise or others to share her company.  Stepping forward and taking in the neat rows of gray markers all around her, it dawned upon her that she was standing in a cemetery.  

To her left, there was a beautiful tombstone carved into a massive angel, so incredibly lavish it bordered on being pretentious.  This person must have been loved, Ginny thought as she trailed her finger down across the cold stone, searching for the owner's name.

          Virginia W. Malfoy.

          Strange, Ginny thought, I didn't know there was someone in Draco's family with my name.  She squinted to stare at the date of birth, and gasped when she read her own.  Almost not daring to, she scanned for the date of death.  "That's today," she cried aloud.  "This is. . .me? But Draco and I never. . .we never married."

"We weren't in the eye of the law," a heartbreakingly familiar voice spoke from behind her. "But in my heart, there was never anyone else.  And I think your family knew that."

          She spun around, and there he was, his complexion glowing and his intense silver eyes soft with love.  The hair was still slicked back and his black robes rich and clean, but he was suddenly without that edge that she'd always felt around him.  And after a few seconds of staring in utter happiness and disbelief, the revelation of where they were, and where that last bullet had gone hit her hard—but not entirely unpleasantly.  He reached for her, and she submitted willingly to his embrace, surprised that even in these conditions he smelled so immensely like Draco.

"You churlish little girl," he murmured into her hair.  "Making me watch you die in my arms."

"You could have lived, Draco," she breathed.  "You could have married, and started a new life, you could have lived for me."

          He kissed her temple gently.  "There is no purpose to life without you, Gin."

          And it didn't matter that they would never have a family, that she had lost her unborn child, or that she wouldn't see her brothers for a long time to come.  Because she knew then, that though to be together in life took just a wedding and some papers, to be together in death, eternally, unendingly—that took true love of unparalleled strength.          

_Omnia vincit amor—love conquers all._

~ The End


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